


kiss the rain

by onlyeverthus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 11:58:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6802885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyeverthus/pseuds/onlyeverthus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione contemplates her relationship with Severus as she goes to meet him after the final battle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	kiss the rain

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song "Kiss the Rain" by Yiruma.
> 
> This is an old, old fic that I first wrote and posted back in 2008 (it is, in fact, the last full Harry Potter fic I wrote before I started writing Doctor Who fic). I've started rereading the series, and my old HP, and Hermione/Severus feelings, are resurfacing, so I'm slowly cleaning up some of my old fics and posting them here.

The sky was overcast and an ethereal gloom had settled in the valley, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. In fact, it was almost serene, and Hermione walked slowly, breathing in the misty air.

Still bloody from the final battle, filthy from head to toe with a large gash on her forehead, she knew she looked a mess, but she didn't care. Her only thought after making sure everyone was okay had been of getting to him, of meeting him here.

A brief smile crossed her face as she remembered their last night together, his fingers on her skin, touching her, loving her in a way she knew no one, herself least of all, would have thought possible. She shivered slightly and closed her eyes for a moment, though she didn't stop walking. She wouldn't stop until she could see him, hold him... love him.

A light rain began to fall, barely distinguishable from the surrounding mist.

The hill loomed closer, and Hermione's heart leapt, though she forced herself not to run. He would be there.

Her thoughts took her back to their first real date. He brought her here, to the valley and this hill, and she thought he was insane. It had been late afternoon, dreary and overcast much like it was right now.

But he led her up this hill, and at the top was a blanket spread over the grass, a picnic basket placed in the center. She'd smiled, more amused than anything, but they'd had an enjoyable dinner. The food had been surprisingly good, and she'd told him so, prompting a thin smile from him, though she could see the pride just under the surface.

They stayed on the hill long after they finished eating, just talking, and after the sun went down, the sky cleared, offering the most gorgeous view of the stars Hermione had ever seen. He smiled knowingly when she gasped at the sight of so many twinkling lights, and they had spent the rest of the evening lying on the blanket, pointing out constellations to each other.

Hermione smiled at the memory, pushing her wet hair away from her face. She glanced down at her hands, grimacing slightly at the blood and dirt that covered them, and wiped them on her pants.

This was also where they had made love for the first time, and the memory brought a flush to her cheeks. Her previous experiences, few as they were, had always been limited to the bedroom. That afternoon, as they sat quietly, enjoying each other's company, he leaned over and kissed her cheek, his hand rising to push the neck of her sweater aside to caress her shoulder. She looked over and saw the look in his eyes, and smiled, silently giving her consent with a nod.

It was one of the most beautiful experiences of her life, not just because it was so different from any of her previous sexual encounters, but because of who he was. She remembered his touch during that first time, how gentle he had been, the way that only the slightest brush of his fingers on her skin had made her shiver. They had fit together so well, and she had been able to feel the depth of his love for her, and that, combined with the gorgeous setting, moved her to tears. The sight of her tears frightened him, and she'd had to assure him that he had done nothing wrong. They lay underneath the blanket afterward, and Hermione remembered feeling like they were the only two people in the world.

Everything had been so perfect that first time. Everything had been perfect since then.

Hermione wrapped her arms around her torso, imagining that it was really his arms, knowing it would be soon.

Everything had continued to be so perfect because they had hardly seen each other; there was no time for arguing in the days that followed that afternoon on the hill. She knew once the war was over, their relationship would become more real than it had been, that there would be disagreements and fights – they were both too stubborn and strong-willed for her to think otherwise – but she almost looked forward to them, and the enrichment of their relationship. She would be content to spend the rest of her life with him, and she hoped he felt the same way.

Hermione slowed to a stop at the base of the hill, and stood still, gazing up at it as she allowed herself a moment to rest. Glancing behind her, she saw nothing but the foggy valley; it felt like the entire world had been covered by a thick shroud, and Hermione shivered as she took a breath and started up the hill.

Once, she asked him why there was never anybody else around, how no Muggles had stumbled upon them. He said it was protected by a series of charms similar to those surrounding Hogwarts – all a Muggle would see was an overgrown field, littered with trash, surrounded by a broken fence dotted with "No Trespassing" signs. It had apparently been protected for so long that nobody thought or really cared enough to remove the spell.

That suited Hermione. She'd come to think of this place as their own, and the thought of anyone tramping around and ruining the beautiful landscape was not appealing.

A glance upward told her she was almost to the top, and she smiled, excitement fluttering in her stomach. She hurried the rest of the way, ignoring the stitch beginning to form in her side, and finally reached the top.

It didn't take long to notice that he wasn't there.

Hermione stepped forward, to the center of the hilltop, and stared around, a frown creasing her brow as she caught her breath. It was unlike him to be late, and worry began to gnaw at her stomach. The thought that something could have happened to him in battle had never crossed her mind, though she knew she should have considered it.

The rain fell heavier now, fast becoming a downpour, and still Hermione stood, watching for him, waiting.

As the minutes ticked by, Hermione grew increasingly afraid, the knot in her stomach tightening and tears rising in her eyes as she anxiously scanned the valley surrounding her.

And then she heard the footsteps behind her, the slightly labored breathing. She turned, and there he was, water dripping from his long black hair, blood trickling down the side of his face from an unseen head wound. He took a few steps forward, limping slightly.

Hermione ran to him, and he swept her into his arms, burying his face in her wet hair and holding her tightly. She pressed her face against his shoulder, smiling broadly as she held him, no longer feeling the pain of her cuts and bruises, the weariness settling into her body; all she focused on was him, how good it felt to be in his arms again, and just how much she loved him.

When they pulled apart, he stared at her, his dark eyes roaming her face as he brushed her hair back. She did the same for him, and smiled.

"I was afraid you weren't going to make it," she whispered.

"Nothing could keep me from you," he replied softly, and pressed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. She could taste salty tears and coppery blood and clean rainwater, and it was a stark reminder of everything they had gone through, both as a couple and as part of the war, a reminder of what they had been fighting for.

Their lips met again, and her arms slid around his neck once more, melting into his embrace as he held her close. It felt like kissing the rain – like rejuvenating the senses, and for the moment, everything was perfect again.


End file.
